The Phantom of the Band Room
by Cat and Tara
Summary: Based on ALW musical and my school band. This dark story plays out in the rich backdrop of a small conservitive christian school. Will everyone survive this story with out dancing, making babies, or getting bashed? proably not.
1. Prologue

Prologue

It was late on a fall night with the crinkle of dead leaves and cicadas. A world-weary woman walked up the dilapidated concrete stairs to the plywood door. With practiced ease she picked the lock using an old paper clip, thoughtfully left near the door. The musty smell of rotting wood and years of dirt hit the woman like a wave. All that was left in the main room was two couches, grimy and sagging, and one or two mangled stands strewn across the floor. She had sworn never to come back here and relive the memories, yet when she heard the band room would soon be torn down she couldn't help but come back one last time, to get one last memory of this place, a room already so full of memories.

In the corner lay a color guard flag, the only bright spot in a world of unending darkness. The woman took the pole into her small, callused hands.

"He often spoke of you, green flag. Your aluminum pole and your silken clothe of green swag. Will you still shine while all the rest of us begin to lag?"

The flag fell from the woman's trembling fingers and rolled ominously towards a pile of metal. The woman, visibly shaken, descended onto the mangled field conductor's podium. As the woman struggled to straighten and join the twisted bars of the towers, she felt the years slip back and day chased night until the room was new. The woman was now a girl, dress code and all. A clarinet could be heard crying over the many tones of the rest of the band.

AN: This story is based on our school. If something doesn't make sense it is because we're used to living this stuff, not explaining it. So if confusion should arise, please leave us a review and we'll try to clarify our meaning. We will hopefully add a list of characters; since we get sometimes get them confused ourselves. If you happen to go to school with us, stumble upon this story and find it is not completely true our routine, your action, etc. then we'll just reply "artistic license". Nothing could truly capture the essence of the band and still fit the story, so you'll just have to grin and bear it. Otherwise please feel free to bash, burn and destroy our story and/or egos.


	2. Red Herring

Red Herring

This chapter is the chapter that is not a chapter. My partner, Cat, kinda dropped out on the whole story. I have in my possession, 20 pages of rough drafts. If you would like me to post the rough draft then be leave a review saying so. It will not be as descriptive or as polished as most stories, but I think it works well as a caricature of our band. Leave your thoughts and I will respond accordingly.


	3. Scene one Act one

"Stop!" Mrs. Lewis let out a sigh "OK, well make sure to take E.T. home tonight" she paused "Um, I know we've been having a bit of trouble with the opening here and I really need my clarinets to step it up, but we're gonna try to add it to the program next Friday. Uh, what else… Oh yeah, Becca you left your cell phone in the band room. Your boyfriend's called us about, how many times Jessi? " She handed our 2nd trumpet her cell phone and Jessi held up 4 fingers. "Ugh, there was something else, Niche call in the Flags" Mrs. Lewis leaned on her stand pondering what she'd forgotten til she remembered that she'd written herself a post-it, "Ok, our student council representatives have been elected Our two representatives are…" Baggot began an uneven drum roll, til Britten kicked him off snare and supplied a real roll. "the winners are…"Mrs. Lewis looked surprised at her own writing "Marshall and Andrew Baggot?" then muttered to herself "I suppose Marshall's joining the band." Wakefield set his arm on Baggot's and the proceeded to the front of the room, wedding style. At the front of the room Wakefield fell back and returned to his timpani. Our 1st trumpet, Daniel Lee, played the only three notes that spelt anything worth spelling. "F-A-G" Baggot bowed along with the now present Marshall. Marshall said "Mrs. Lewis, I heard somethin' about me joining the band?" he traipsed up to the front and quietly told her "I've always wanted to be a flag, will that do?"

"Yes, it will. Do you know why you're joining the band?"

"I've got a pretty good idea"

"So you can explain how you got more votes than anyone else? Baggot got a grand total of two votes and he took 2nd,"

"Well, me an' some the other sophomores thought't'd be funny if someone outside the band won. Apparently they got a few other people in on it."

"You're gonna have to learn an instrument eventually"

"Um yeah ok, what d' ya need?"

"A bass clarinet"

"Ever had a guy play one a those?"

"No, now go collect your stuff" she turned to the band "ok, silence now. Let's try E.T. again. 1,2,3,4!" The woodwinds opened with a trill. Next would be a Brass, namely trumpet, solo. Unfortunately, Daniel's glory was stolen by the concert bass drum. The dull thud rang through the whole band. Lying behind the trombones was the prone body of Brock Wright. Blood had started oozing down his forehead and matting the edges or his untidy hair. Mrs. Lewis ran to the phone behind her in the kitchen and frantically dialed 911. Kyle, late as usual, walked through the door and into a chaotic mob. The flutes were shrieking, the only things shriller than their voices are their flutes. Mrs. Lewis had begun banging the phone against the wall. She'd finally remembered that that phone was broken. The trombones had jumped away from Brock and into the saxes. The flaggots huddled together in the back. Except Marshall. He was next to Baggot when he said, "Well, screw this," and walked out. Then remembered he hadn't picked up his license and didn't have a car on top of that. The two second clarinets screamed, "Look! The board! It's the Phantom!" Which did nothing to placate the band. Finally Christin jumped on top of her chair and yelled, "Everybody quiet!" The whole room froze. Mrs. Lewis rushed to her office in the back. She called 911 and then Brock's father, Headmaster Wright. Everyone gathered up the wits they had left and migrated towards the couches with pit stops in the kitchen and old closet that'd been converted into instrument storage. Mr. Wright slammed through the door and pulled Mrs. Lewis into her office. He closed the door and they engaged in a heated discussion. Christin needed to get something out of her bag, conveniently place next to Mrs. Lewis' office. Before Christin could hear a thing, Mrs. Lewis slammed through her office door and the front door to her jeep. Everyone heard her race off. Mr. Wright saw Christin and dragged her into Mrs. Lewis' office. Mr. Wright was a tall, filled out man looking to be late 40's mid 50's. His hair was thinning and appeared to be habitually dyed light brown. The only thing he seemed to love more than reminiscing about his glory days on the high school football team or making slightly perverted comments was to bust our school's two "Goths" on dress code violations. It had been two days since Christin had been informed she couldn't wear all black. Yesterday was a day that would live forever in everyone's memory as "black day". Today Christin was wearing pure white. She was about to get the same punishment as everyone did yesterday, except that one cheerleader, oh, and that quarterback… Outside, someone had already figured out the reason behind Mrs. Lewis' disappearance. "She was wearing all black" muttered Jessi, our piccolo, through a mouthful of chips, "Mrs. Lewis went to change."

"They can't do that! Mrs. Brown and Ms. Jones wore black yesterday and no one looked twice." Tara, a second clarinet, exclaimed, she was obviously upset by this injustice.

"Kmph, so?" muttered a third clarinet, Megan. Sirens were addible when Mr. Wright released Christin and attended his son. Christin, covered in mocking white, sulked over to the couches. Cat gave her a questioning glance. "No solid colors because they're 'distracting' I have to go home and change" Tara had been intently and rummaged around in her bag before producing a science club tee shirt. "Thanks--" Christin started, Baggot interrupted her "Hey Tara, is this your barrel?" He held up the piece of her clarinet and ran his tongue over it quite thoroughly. Muffin Man stood next to Baggot laughing his head off. Baggot dropped the barrel and snatched Muffin's homework from his hands and proceeded to stuff it down his pants. Mad chasing and friendly chaos insued as people started easing up. Over by the tympani Daniel Lee, Daniel Langley and Kyle were playing with a hacky sack. Cat stood up and felt like flirting with Langley. Quietly she crept up behind him, then pounced on his back. She wrapped her arms over his neck and began a seven and three quarters minute long wrestling match. Langley was tall and thin with dark eyes and thick black hair. If you were to see him in passing you would surely think he was half monkey. He was our French horn. The same instrument Cat was supposed to be learning. Right now all she was learning was how much muscle was on Langley's stick man body. She was a blue-eyed blonde sophomore in junior/senior classes. Unlike most kids at this school, she had moved here recently and was not a Christian at this Church of Christ school. Tara had washed off her barrel by then and returned it to her case. Allie, Cat's 8th grade sister walked up and said "Tell, them to stop flirting". Tara grinned and indicated Kyle and Lauren, who appeared to be going off to Kyle's car. "Only if you'll ask them where they're going"

"deal"


End file.
